


Dearest Laura

by Miya_Morana



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Cora headcanon, Epistolary, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-23
Updated: 2014-06-23
Packaged: 2018-02-05 23:12:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1835677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miya_Morana/pseuds/Miya_Morana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Back in Esmeraldas, Ecuador, Cora decides to write a letter to her sister to tell her the things she never got to tell her in life. As she doesn't get any news from Derek and has no one to talk to about it, she keeps writing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dearest Laura

**Author's Note:**

> When I decided to go back to my old bingo cards and ask someone to pick a random prompt on them to get me back into writing, I really expected to end up writing some schmoopy Derek/Stiles stuff. But somehow, this is what happened. A bit different from my usual, but I had fun writing it, and I hope people like it. :)
> 
> Written for the epistolary prompt of my [old Trope Bingo Card](http://miya-morana.livejournal.com/168700.html). Big thanks to Morganoconner for the inspiration. It feels great to be writing again!

Dearest Laura,

I've been staring at these two words for the last ten minutes, wondering how to start this, but I'm not even sure why I sat down with paper and pen in the first place. Maybe I'm feeling lonely, now that Derek and uncle Peter are gone. Maybe I'm feeling guilty... guilty of so many things, none the least what happened all those years ago.

Our lives have always been violent, it's a part of who we are that I've always known and accepted on some level. But nothing could have prepared me for the violence of that afternoon. The fire burning my skin, the wolfsbane-laced smoke inside my lungs... There was no way out, the doors had been sealed and we were all too weak to break them open. I remember laying on the floor, coughing, crying as I watched the beam over me burn, knowing it was about to fall down on me, crush me. I was a coward, Laura, I wanted it to fall faster, to put a stop to my pain.

I still don't know who pushed me out of its way. It could have been someone from out pack. It could have been mom. It could have been one of the wolves from the visiting packs. There were so many of us. I didn't even look back to check. The beam crashed down where I'd been lying a second before, and it broke a window. I saw it, and I crawled my way to it, through it. I was covered in blood and ash when I tumbled outside. I don't remember much after that, but I must have dragged myself into the woods, hid under a thick bush and passed out. When I woke again, it was the middle of the night. There were police tapes all around the house and the smell of smoke and death clung to me.

There hasn't been a single day that I haven't wondered if I could have saved anyone else. If I had shouted to let the others know there was a way out. If I had run to town to get the firemen instead of hiding. If I had tried, once out of the fire, to unlock the doors. I know I could have saved someone, at least one person, maybe more. I know you would have tried, I know Derek would have tried. I've been so ashamed of this day that it kept me away from seeking you and Derek out. I was too scared of you finding out how selfish I'd been. And a part of me is almost relieved that I'll never have to see your face as I tell you the truth.

A bigger part of me is angry, because my cowardice kept me away from you and Derek. I ran. I ran as far as I could go, which turned out to be Ecuador. I wasn't planning on stopping here, I wasn't planning on stopping _ever_ , I think. But that's another story.

I guess what I was trying to tell you was that I'm sorry. For everything. What I did, what I didn't do, the things Derek insists aren't my fault... I still bear some of the responsibility, I always will. I wish I could turn back time, wish I could do things all over again. I think (I _hope_ ) that I've changed enough, grown enough, that if I had to face the same circumstances again, I would make other choices.

Most of all I wish I could have seen your face one more time, seen the woman you had become. Derek doesn't speak much these days, but the few times he mentioned you, it was with a lot of respect and admiration. Uncle Peter still talks a lot (remember, we used to joke that he loved the sound of his own voice more than he loved peanut butter and chocolate), but he only remembers you the same way I do. He's changed, too. That fired damaged us all in so many ways...

I think Derek is gonna be okay, though. He's had his ups and downs, but he's really trying now, and if him and Scott McCall can learn to work together, then Beacon Hills' mismatched group of werewolves and associates will be fine. Part of me wishes I'd stayed, but Beacon Hills isn't my home anymore. I don't know why, I felt like I just didn't belong there. Esmeraldas isn't a perfect place, and god knows my relationship with the local pack is complicated at best, but it feels right to be back.

I wish you could see my life now, big sister. I don't know what you'd think of it though. An Omega, working at a local joiner's workshop, just trying to lay low and get by. Maybe you'd be disappointed. I hope you'd be happy for me though, because I like this simple, mostly non-violent life. My brief time back in Beacon Hills confirmed it.

I miss you, Laura. When I got word of a new Alpha back home, I thought it was you. I thought you and Derek were in trouble, but it turns out I was too late to do anything for you. Way too late. At least I helped Derek a little. Well, I hope I did.

Love,

Cora

 

***

 

Dearest Laura,

I haven't received any news from Derek yet. It has me worried. He promised to write as soon as him and Peter got home. It's been two weeks now, and I haven't gotten a word. I wrote to him yesterday already, but I felt weirdly wired when I got home from work today, and I have no one else to talk to. Not that this is anything like actually talking to you, but hey, if it helps me sort my thoughts out. Plus, it felt kind of soothing, writing you that first letter.

I have a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach. It's as if my instincts were trying to tell me something, but the message isn't getting through. I don't know if I should just hop on a plane back to California. I mean, I know what Beacon Hills is like. I've been there. I've heard the stories from Boyd and Isaac. And from what I understood, Scott and the others made it so that the place would get _worse_ , in order to stop the Darach. Derek is bound to get in and out of trouble on a regular basis now (since he refuses to “abandon Beacon Hills and Scott to their fate”, his words). I can't just keep worrying about him all the time. I made a choice, to go back to my life here, to stay out of things.

Still, I hope he's fine...

Love,

Cora

 

***

 

Dearest Laura,

I finally got news from Derek. Eduardo came by the workshop today, looking rather annoyed. He was off duty, but still wearing his uniform, so it made pretty much everybody nervous to see him come in and ask after me. People are a lot more afraid of cops here than in Beacon Hills, with all due respect to Stiles's dad. (I honestly think it's a good thing for sheriff Stilinski.)

Eduardo's a good guy deep down (or I would probably be dead by now), but he has a face that would scare away pretty much anyone, and that's when he's not even showing he's wolf face. And he seemed in a bad mood. That's when I realized I hadn't let the local pack know I was back yet. Which, yeah, have I mentioned my relationship with the Esmeraldas pack is complicated at best? As you know, packs usually don't let Omegas live on their territory in peace. But I should probably start at the beginning. 

When I first arrived in this city, I was still running from home, with no idea where I was going. I was mostly living off game that I hunted, but I was craving for human food and a proper shower. I broke into a random house after I saw its owners leave and cleaned up, picked new clothes and went through their fridge. I know, you wouldn't have approved of the stealing. Yet another thing to put on the list of ways I've disappointed you, or would have if you'd known. Anyways, it was hot as hell, I was exhausted, and I made a mistake: I fell asleep. Turned out, the owner was a cop, and I woke up with his gun in my face. I ended up with my ass thrown in jail, and that's where Eduardo found me.

He got me out and brought me to his Alpha, Manuel Estévez, who gave me a choice. I could either join his pack, leave Esmeraldas, or, you know, die. I almost chose the third option, to be honest. Another thing I'm not proud of. I couldn't see any future, all I'd been doing since the fire was live in the present. But I decided to give it a shot. As you can guess, it didn't work out, and eventually I pleaded to Manuel to let me stay on my own. There's a whole bunch of conditions to it, including the pack regularly checking on me to make sure being packless hasn't made me snap yet. So, yeah, I was afraid Manuel had told Eduardo to punish me for not holding up my end of our agreement. 

But I was wrong. Eduardo was just pissed to be acting as the mail delivery boy. “Manuel says to tell you that we are not a post office,” he told me, and he gave me Derek's letter.

Alright, enough digressing and avoiding the subject now. Derek's letter. It was really short. Basically, it seems some hunters are looking for me and went after Derek and uncle Peter for info. He's asking me not to write to him, and he'll let me know when he's sorted things out. He sent the letter through Manuel just in case they were still watching him, I guess, though it sounds like he got rid of them.

The thing I don't get is who on Earth could be looking for me, and why? Like I said, I try to stay out of werewolf business here, and Deucalion literally got his paws on me as soon as I stepped back on American soil. There’s literally no one who could be after me and not after Derek, or after the pack here. Huh, maybe that’s it? Maybe someone thinks they can get to Manuel’s pack through me? I only just thought of that. Hey, look, writing to you is helping me more than I thought it would. Thanks, sis.

I was gonna talk a lot about my worrying over Derek, but I should trust his assessment that this was about me, not about him. I’m off to see Estévez, I should have told him I was back anyway (although obviously he knows), and he needs to know someone might be after his pack. I’m probably the most ineffective way to get at him there is (I’m not even pack), but hunters have weird ways of thinking sometimes.

You’ve always helped me in the most unexpected ways, Laura. I love you.

Cora

 

***

 

Dearest Laura,

It’s been a little while since I last wrote you. Well, at least it feels like it. I was at the beach today, and I kept remembering that time mom took us to the ocean for the first time, for my seventh birthday. It was a fairly similar day, sunny but windy, with a lot of sea spray in the air. I remember how surprised I was by the water’s saltiness. I mean, I knew the sea was salty, I just didn’t know how much. I remember Derek ducking my head under the water, laughing as I jumped on his back and tried to do the same to him. He wouldn’t budge. And then suddenly he went under, and I shouted triumphantly until I saw you come up. You’d totally dragged him down by surprise, since I had no chance in hell on my own. Derek was so mad. It was hilarious.

It’s strange, I’ve lived in Esmeraldas for years now, and it’s certainly not the first sunny-but-windy day where I’ve walked on the beach. But it’s the first time the memories have taken me like this, filling my head, blurring my vision. It left me a mess of sad happiness, or of happy sadness, I’m not quite sure. But overall I’m glad that I could recall these days gone. I cherish the memories of you, the memories of us all when life was simple and good. Play. Hunt. Listen to our parents. Enjoy life.

In other news, not a word from Derek since that first letter. The pack is keeping closer tabs on me than usual, but last I heard they hadn’t noticed any hunter activity in the city. I’m starting to wonder if my theory was right, or if I should try to check on Derek anyway.

I miss you.

Cora

 

***

 

Dearest Laura,

There's still no news from Derek, it's a little bit unnerving. But that's not why I'm writing to you. I need someone to talk to, I think, and you always were a good listener. (That's not true, you tended to wave my ramblings off as if they didn't matter (because they didn't, really), but for my sake, let's pretend you were.) 

My boss is a moron. We've been a bit swamped at work, but he can't afford to hire a fully qualified new employee, so he decided to take in another apprentice. And he assigned me as his supervisor. Me! As if I had the patience to teach anyone, for one. So far, that Rafael kid has made my work output _slower_ than before. I don't think the boss thought that thing through.

This is such a bad idea. I'm good at being responsible for myself, but god, I suck at looking after others. He nearly sawed off his finger today. If it wasn't for my werewolf speed, he would have. This kid is clueless when it come to woodwork. He seems not to learn too slowly, at least, but it's clear that he had no idea what he was doing at all on his first day. Was I like this too, when I first stared out? I can't remember.

(I call him a kid, you would laugh at me. I'm pretty sure he's as old as I am, but he acts like such a teenager at times, ugh! He reminds me of Stiles, in some ways, without the gruesome experiences Stiles has gone through.)

I hope the boss comes to his senses soon. I don't think I can take his jokes much longer.

Damn, it felt good putting all this down. Thanks sis. You know, there's a growing pile of those letters to you sitting on my desk. I wonder if I should do something with them, something symbolic, like throw them in the sea maybe. But I like looking at this pile. Am I weird?

I love you.

Cora

 

***

 

Dearest Laura,

Manuel is slightly annoyed at me. As it turns out, no one was after the pack. Or after _me_ , for that matter. Derek just assumed that the “she-wolf” those hunters were referring to had to be me, but apparently not. I got a phone call from him earlier (that’s how not worried about me he is, so there really was no danger). He sounded pretty shaken about something, but when I asked he just said he had a rough few weeks. So I called Scott.

I know, I know, I probably shouldn’t have. I’m not spying on our brother, I’m just making sure he’s really okay. Scott didn't know anything about hunters, but they've indeed been having a rough time in Beacon Hills. Something about kitsunes and yakuzas and Stiles being possessed and causing mayhem. Allison died. If I'm feeling a bit shaken by it, I can't imagine what Scott must feel like. Their relationship was complicated at best, but I thought they would eventually work things out. Allison was a hell of a woman, and pretty decent for an ex-hunter. I think you would have liked her.

I can't help but wonder if I would have made a difference, had I been there. I've been second-guessing myself a lot, lately. Am I still running away, from Derek, from a pack that could, maybe, accept me? I didn't fit in when I was there, but Derek's pack was a torn-up mess and Scott's pack was new and mostly made of humans. But the way Scott was talking, it sounded like they'd finally all started working together. I don't know, I would probably just throw things off if I came back. Sometimes, you have to live with your choices.

I mean, I have responsibilities here, now. Rafael is doing much better (and he's learned to read my “shut your mouth” face, thank god), and I feel like I'm useful to someone for once. But on the other hand, I keep thinking about Derek and the others. Most of them are just a bunch of kids, too, even if they've had to grow up fast. Like me.

I feel so lost, Laura, so conflicted. What should I do? Maybe I'll just do my best to keep updated on the situation back home. Make sure to keep tabs on Derek, and Scott, and the pack. See how things go, and in how much trouble they get. And then, we'll see. We'll see...

Love,

Cora


End file.
